


Nā Wawā (Echoes)

by seleneheart



Category: NCIS
Genre: Blanket Permission, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Getting Together, Implied Relationships, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Resolved Romantic Tension, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seleneheart/pseuds/seleneheart
Summary: An old friend of Gibbs calls in a favor to help one of the SEALs he trained, sending Gibbs and DiNozzo to Hawaii to clear the name of one Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett. Tony finds himself fascinated by the SEAL and his partner, seeing in them an echo of his own situation.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs, Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Kudos: 142





	Nā Wawā (Echoes)

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place at the end of S1 of Hawaii 5-0, and some undetermined time for NCIS. I wrote this partly out of aggravation of all the legal and jurisdictional handwaving the H50 writers did. They could’ve tried a *little* bit harder for accuracy. References characters from J.A.G. as well. This won't make any sense if you haven't seen Season 1 of H50.

Gibbs storms out of Vance’s office, not in a raging mood, in Tony’s best assessment, but more of a _I’m in a fucking hurry and you mortals are in my way_ sort of disposition. Tony braces for impact, wondering which way his day is going to go.

“McGee! David! I want those money trails finished by tomorrow, noon. Then I’ll need you here as back up for me and DiNozzo.”

McGee swallows and Tony winces. Those accounts are incredibly complicated and McGee is probably looking at an all-nighter to get them done by the next day.

“Problem, McGee?”

“No, boss. No problem,” McGee says, trying for a look of cool competence.

Gibbs snorts, apparently seeing right through the probie’s attempts to play it off. “DiNozzo! Grab your go bag.”

“On it, boss. Where are we going?”

“Hawaii. Vance’s orders.”

That partially explains Gibbs’ high dudgeon since Hawaii is pretty far out of their usual bailiwick. Vance ordering them out could explain the rest of it, but Tony isn’t getting any angry vibes from Gibbs, just urgency.

“I have bad memories of Hawaii,” Tony says, a token protest if there ever was one. If Gibbs says he’s going, then Tony really doesn’t have much say over it, no matter how much memories of being abandoned might upset him.

Gibbs gives him a long, inscrutable look. “Does it look like I care? Now, DiNozzo!”

Getting them to the airport in record time settles Gibbs down a bit, as terrorizing other drivers always does. Gibbs waves their IDs, travel orders and various other papers as he plows through the TSA agents who try to get in his way. Once they are settled on the plane bound for LAX, Gibbs pulls out a thick file and tosses it in Tony’s lap.

Tony opens the file and whistles under his breath. “I read about this when it hit the news. Navy SEAL murders the Governor of Hawaii? Why do they need us?”

“Read,” Gibbs demands.

Conceding that he has nothing better to do on the six-hour flight and as a method of avoiding Gibbs’ temper, Tony opens the file and starts reading. He only gets a few pages in before he understands what has Gibbs so bothered. Tony digs through his messenger bag and pulls out a legal pad. Gibbs watches him and Tony sees the warm approval in his eyes. Tony mentally lectures himself about needing to please Gibbs after all these years. 

As he reads, Tony lets his hands doodle – arrows connecting seemingly disparate thoughts, sketches of the players, anything that comes to mind. The plane is on final approach to LAX when he finishes.

“Lt. Commander McGarrett . . . they have him in Halawa State Prison?” Tony asks.

“Yeah.”

“With the general population?” Tony asks in horror, wondering how tough the guy has to be to have survived so long. 

“No, they have him in solitary.” Gibbs tone says exactly what he thinks of the officials in Hawaii.

“I assume that in that packet of papers you have an order transferring jurisdiction to NCIS?”

“Yep.”

Tony ponders the inherent conflict of interest involved in any state agency investigating the murder of a governor. After reading the file, he can understand why Gibbs is pissed off about the whole thing – the stench of dead fish is pretty obvious. He still doesn’t understand why Gibbs has gotten involved or why Vance didn’t send one of his teams from the west coast.

As they stride from one terminal to the next, Gibbs whips out his phone and punches a number.

“Joe?”

“. . .”

“We’re about to board.”

“. . .”

“Yeah, we have the orders. Be there in a few hours. You have transport ready.”

Gibbs disconnects abruptly.

“I suppose you’re going to explain the rest of this at some point, Boss?”

“Yeah.”

Gibbs raids a Starbucks on the way to their connecting gate and has finished the cup by the time they reach the waiting area. Tony idly speculates about the thickness of the scar tissue on the back of Gibbs’ throat from all the searing coffee he’s drunk over the years. Then he stops himself, as it does no good to think about what the inside of Gibbs’ mouth might feel like, because Tony will never get to find out.

They settle into their seats taking up a whole row of three towards the back of the plane. Noisy, but perfect for having a mostly private conversation.

“Okay, Jethro, mind telling me what is going on? Normally the murder of a public official would never be handled by their own department. The conflict of interest is huge and a defense attorney would make hash of it pretty easily. Why isn’t the FBI involved?”

“Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” Gibbs said. “The whole thing stinks.”

“So we’re playing the white knights? If so, I’m Lancelot.”

Gibbs ignores that and says, “Lt. Commander Joe White is old friend of mine from the Marines. He’s with the SEALs now, and he’s been making a lot of noise about this. He’s convinced McGarrett didn’t kill her, but couldn’t get any joy from anyone in Hawaii. He called me last night, and I brought Vance in. The director and SECNAV agreed that NCIS has proper jurisdiction and the orders came through this morning.”

“Do we have a plan?”

“Get him out,” Gibbs grunts.

“Short. Simple. I like it,” Tony grins.

Gibbs ignores him, closing his eyes and seeming to drop off into sleep almost immediately. Tony suspects that it’s not even an act, knowing Jethro and his ability to sleep in noisy planes. He glances at his watch, which he reset in California, and tries to calculate how many hours since he had breakfast and what day it actually is. He gives it up and hopes that the officials in Hawaii don’t have a clue as to what tsunami of angry Marine is about to descend on them.

At some point, Tony dozes off too, waking up only when the flight attendants announce the approach to Honolulu International, where it is apparently ten in the morning. Tony still isn’t exactly sure what the actual date is.

At the gate, they wait for the rest of the plane to clear out . . . Gibbs projecting an outward aura of calm, but Tony knows his tells after working with him for so long, and decides to keep his mouth shut. He’s too tired to be subjected to a tirade at the moment.

As soon as they clear security, Tony hears a shout of “Gunny!” and he turns to find a bald man with piercing blue eyes striding towards them. He makes an educated guess that this must be Gibbs’ friend, the one who dragged them halfway around the world in a matter of hours.

Gibbs drops his carry on bag and snaps into a salute. “Commander.”

“None of that, Jethro, my old friend,” Commander White says, holding out his hand instead. “How the hell are you?”

“Damned good, Joe,” Gibbs says, shaking the commander’s hand. “Yourself? How is Beth?”

Some of the joy fades from White’s eyes. “Lost her two years ago. That breast cancer junk.”

“My sympathies,” Jethro says.

Commander White shakes off his melancholy. “No time to dwell on that. I have a pup that needs rescuing.”

Gibbs turns to Tony. “Joe, this is Tony DiNozzo, my second.”

“Good to meet you, Agent DiNozzo.”

“You as well, sir,” Tony says, grasping the offered hand.

“Did you check bags?” White asks.

“No.”

“Then lets go. I have a car.”

The SEAL turns and leads the way through the terminal with long, ground-eating strides. The car is a nondescript rental and Tony settles into the backseat, hoping that the man doesn’t drive like Jethro. 

“So tell us,” Jethro says. “What the hell is going on here?”

“When I read through the file on the plane, I started making a list of the anomalies,” Tony put in.

Commander White sighs. “Thank god I called you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Jethro. Both of you.”

“We’re happy to help.”

“I trained Steve McGarrett. He was in Navy Intelligence and then switched to the SEALs. The best I’ve ever seen. Bar none. He didn’t do this.”

“I trust your gut like I trust mine,” Gibbs says. 

“I’ve talked to McGarrett’s partner, a Sergeant Daniel Williams. A cop from New Jersey. He’s been pretty aggressive about trying to get the P.D. to do the right thing. He was able to get an attorney to order a physical inventory of McGarrett.”

“Jersey?” Tony laughs. “I guess there’s a story there. Which we can get to after this is fixed.” He clears his throat, knowing that Jethro would have slapped him if he could reach him. “The file said McGarrett had taser burns on his neck.”

“Yes,” White nodded. “The prosecution’s case rests on McGarrett’s decreasing mental stability after the murder of his father, his sister’s kidnapping, and the revelation that his mother’s death was actually a previous murder attempt on his father. The most damning thing is that Jameson was shot with Steve’s gun and he was in her office.”

“And his side of it? I’m guessing you’ve talked to him,” Jethro says.

“He went to her office to confront her and was tasered. He woke up just as H.P.D. arrived. He blames some Yakuza heavy named Wo Fat.”

“Why would the governor set up a task force only to sabotage it?” Tony wonders aloud.

“Williams seems to think that their team has been making people nervous. The task force had been making a lot of headway on some of the persistent problems on the islands. From what I gather from the few H.P.D. officers who would talk to me, McGarrett stepped on a lot of toes. He’s a very unconventional cop, but Williams keeps him contained within the bounds of the constitution. However, word has gotten out the Steve will do just about anything, so criminals run scared of him.”

Commander White drives fast but not as recklessly as Jethro and Tony relaxes marginally as they head out of the city and into the backcountry where Halawa Prison is located.

“Would he have the knowledge to plant the car bomb that killed Hills?” Jethro asks. 

“The knowledge, yes. That’s completely not his style though. If he plans to kill someone, he doesn’t pussy around about it, he just does it.”

“We’ll need the file from the Honolulu P.D.,” Jethro says, turning to Tony. “Get McGee to set that in motion while we’re gathering up McGarrett.”

“On it, boss,” Tony says, thumbing his phone. “Where are we working? Not H.P.D., I guess.”

“Williams said that there’s some question of Wo Fat corrupting officers in the past,” White puts in. “I suggest we use McGarrett’s task force headquarters.”

“Agreed,” Jethro says.

White pulls the sedan into the visitor parking lot at the prison. Tony notices a couple of cars marked with the logo of the Honolulu P.D., and nudges Gibbs, pointing them out. Jethro nods, but his eyes light up with the sort of unholy glee that he usually reserves for Fornell when they’ve dicked him out of a case. Tony wonders if he should warn Commander White to expect fireworks, but then decides that the man has known Gibbs longer than he has and probably knew what he was getting when he called them in.

Gibbs’ whole demeanor changes, his easy stride turning into a prowling stalk that warns anyone in the vicinity that he’s the top dog and anyone challenging him will get their throat ripped out. Tony follows, trying to conceal his grin. 

They find the prison warden and the Honolulu cop, whose name badge reads Lukela, waiting for them in the reception area, both of them framing the counter like lions on a coat of arms.

“We were warned of your arrival, Agent Gibbs,” Lukela says. “This is a matter of state jurisdiction.”

Gibbs doesn’t say anything, merely draws the orders out of his briefcase and setting them on the counter. 

“Transfer the prisoner, Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett to my custody immediately. The Navy has clear jurisdiction in this matter.”

“He murdered a Hawaiian official on Hawaiian soil. It is a state issue,” Lukela argues.

“Now, see, this is what I don’t understand,” Tony says, letting his temper show, while Jethro glowers at them. “Homeland security has ruled that any assassination of public officials is considered an act of terror under the Patriot Act. Therefore, federal law enforcement is always involved. Perhaps you could explain to me why you appear to have violated the Patriot Act by not calling the FBI?”

“Because they’re hiding something,” Gibbs growls and the very air crackles with the menace he projects.

The state boys share a look of pure terror, but Tony refuses to feel sorry for them. If they’re in bed with the Yakuza as McGarrett alleges, then they deserve all the shit that’s about to fall on them.

“Do yourself a favor,” Commander White says, gently, his voice soft and nearly paternal. “Abide by the orders. No one could blame you.”

The warden spins around. “Bring McGarrett.”

Gibbs settles down minutely but Tony knows damn well that he’s still on high alert. The desk sergeant brings up the bag with McGarrett’s personal effects, and Tony takes it without comment.

When the guards arrive with the SEAL, he is in heavy shackles around his wrists and ankles, with a chain around his waist, the kind of iron usually reserved for prisoners on death row. Tony can feel the imminent explosion without even looking at his boss. More shocking than the chains is how young McGarrett is. Tony had been expecting someone more his own age.

“Keys,” he says, holding his hand out to one of the guards.

The man gives a worried look to the warden, who nods. “Do it.”

“You miserable fuck,” Gibbs snarls. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? How dare you treat him like that!”

Deciding that Commander White can have the pleasure of trying to keep Gibbs on a leash for once, Tony takes the keys and motions for McGarrett to follow him. He tries a door off the waiting room and finds a small cubicle that might be for attorney/client discussions before someone is processed. Or something. Tony doesn’t really care. The SEAL looks haunted and Tony doesn’t think that being exposed to Gibbs in full rant, even if it’s on his behalf, would be the best thing for the man. He closes the door as McGarrett follows him inside.

“Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, NCIS,” he says. “And you are Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett, yes?”

The man doesn’t respond. Applying the key to the locks on the shackles, Tony releases McGarrett’s hands. The Navy man stands passively, which worries Tony, but he keeps it to himself.

“The crazy man currently assaulting the warden is my boss, Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Your friend called us.”

McGarrett gazes at him as though he doesn’t understand the words. “My friend . . . Danny? Is Danny okay?”

Tony frowns, wondering how the guy totally missed the presence of the SEAL commander. Also, asking about his partner before anything else is a little odd.

“Williams, you mean?” Tony asks, just to be sure. He doesn’t know how McGarrett functions under normal circumstances, but this shell of a man isn’t capable of running anything more complicated than his own life, never mind a whole task force.

“Danny. Yes.”

“He’s fine. He’s been working on your case. Your other friend, Commander White, is the one who got NCIS here.”

“Commander White?” McGarrett turns utterly ashen, possibly from the embarrassment of being in such a predicament in front of someone he respects. Tony takes it as a good sign that he’s reacting normally.

Tony kneels and opens the ankle shackles. He picks up the bag of belongings and rips it open. 

“Here, get dressed. I’ll turn around.”

The guy looks like he could care less whether Tony watches, but Tony doesn’t know whether it’s military lack of modesty or more evidence of his shattered psyche, but he turns around anyway.

When McGarrett finishes dressing, they exit the room to find the tension in the waiting area so thick that even Tony has the urge to duck. He hasn’t heard any gunfire yet, so he supposes that’s a plus. And there’s no sign of bloodshed, so Tony will count it as a win.

Commander White steps forward and grasps McGarrett’s shoulders. “Hell of a mess, boy.”

The SEAL nods, still silent.

“Let’s go,” Jethro orders.

The ride back into the city is awkwardly quiet. McGarrett sits in the back with Tony and stares out the window. Tony had been sure that the presence of Commander White would be enough to snap McGarrett out of his shell of silence . . . the knowledge that he hasn’t been abandoned and that there are people who still believe in him.

When they arrive at the Five-0 headquarters in the Iolani Palace, McGarrett seems to perk up, paying a little more attention to his surroundings.

As they enter the offices, they’re hit by a small, blond tornado of a man, who gets into McGarrett’s face and starts yelling at him and waving his hands around and poking at the guy. From the accent, Tony guesses that this is the Jersey cop. 

Two other people greet them and Tony vaguely hears them introducing themselves as Chin Ho Kelly and Kono something. A third woman arrives, who says something about being from the CIA, but even that startling fact can’t distract Tony. He’s too busy watching McGarrett and his partner. Tony tries to come up with a good metaphor for the cop, but all he can think of is the Tazmanian Devil, but that doesn’t quite work.

He’s just as young as McGarrett, and Tony aches for both of them, thrust into such a mess without any backup.

The guy doesn’t pause for breath in his harangue, which is impressive. Tony glances at the other two to see if they’re bothered by the verbal assault, but they don’t seem to care. He turns back and notices that McGarrett’s posture is slowly straightening and the dead look is leaving his eyes even as Williams gets more creative with his insults. Somehow the yelling is doing what nothing else could – bringing McGarrett back to himself.

After a particularly vicious finger-stab to the chest, McGarrett moves, grabbing Williams’ hand and wrapping his fingers around Williams’ wrist, holding him gently but firmly. The move cuts the other man off mid-rant and his eyes go wide as he gazes up at his partner.

“I thought you left,” McGarrett says finally. “Left me.”

“In what universe is that even possible? How could you even think I’d abandon you? I know you’re off your rocker most of the time, but one would imagine the fact that you’re stuck with me would be patently obvious.”

McGarrett shrugs.

“You idiot. Come here, babe.”

Williams pulls him close, wrapping the much taller man in a tight embrace. McGarrett doesn’t hesitate, slumping against his partner, gripping him tightly.

Tony glances at the rest of the room. Gibbs and White look puzzled, but Kelly and the women look approving and fond.

“Are they together?” Tony asks, knowing that it’s on everyone else’s mind.

“No,” Kelly says. “That’s how they are.”

Kono looks like she might want to argue, but she says nothing. Tony wonders if she knows something that Kelly doesn’t.

Williams pulls back from the embrace and says, “Steven, you reek. Go take a shower and change.”

McGarrett glances around and finds the audience watching the pair of them. He finally looks like a Naval commander, not so broken anymore. 

“Thank you, sir,” he says, saluting Commander White.

“Knew you didn’t do it,” White says.

“I appreciate it,” McGarrett responds. “What’s my status?”

“You’ve been remanded to my custody until we get the charges dropped,” Gibbs answers.

“Can I shower?” the SEAL asks. “Don’t want to piss Danno off any further.”

Tony notes the nickname and thinks that if they aren’t together, it’s probably just a matter of time. Maybe that’s what Kono was thinking in her silent disagreement with Chin’s assessment of their partnership.

“Are there facilities here?” Tony asks. They can’t let the guy wander off by himself. “I’ll take him.”

Williams looks like he’d like to argue, but doesn’t say anything. Tony approves of his restraint, although the urge to comfort his partner must be overwhelming.

He sticks his hand out. “Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS. Didn’t get a chance to introduce myself, what with all the shouting.”

Williams doesn’t bother looking embarrassed by his display. “Danny Williams.”

“Jersey . . . what part? I’m from Massapequa myself.”

“A Long Island boy? I’m from Newark,” Williams answers. “Glad to have someone from a decent part of the country around. I’ve got too many laid back surfers lurking here as it is.”

Tony laughs. “Yeah, my memories of Hawaii aren’t the best. I’m here under protest.”

“Pineapple infested hellhole.” Williams smiles at him and some of the tension radiating from the small man eases slightly. Maybe he’ll trust Tony with McGarrett.

“Lead the way, Commander,” Tony says, turning to the SEAL.

“Call me Steve,” McGarrett replies.

“All right,” Tony says easily. “Tony.”

“Okay.”

The team showers aren’t far away from the main office, and obviously not for decontamination purposes like the ones in NCIS. There is only one stall off the small locker room. Tony leans against the wall and doesn’t watch McGarrett. 

He wonders about the dynamic between the SEAL and the cop. Murdered parents, sister in exile . . . McGarrett has as many issues as Gibbs does, although Tony would argue that nothing tops the death of one’s child. But even so, McGarrett let himself open up to his partner in the way that Tony can only wish Gibbs would do with him. Of course, Danny Williams seems to be an irresistible force, so McGarrett probably didn’t have much choice.

The man showers quickly and efficiently. The sound of the water turning off pulls Tony out of his contemplation of whether getting in Gibbs’ face and demanding some intimacy would actually work or not.

The SEAL garbs himself in cargo pants and a pair of work boots from his locker, topping the whole thing off with a T-shirt. Tony can’t imagine Gibbs letting something like that go, but apparently things work differently on the islands.

They walk back into the conference room as Director Vance is signing off from one of the monitors on the wall. 

“Transfer me to McGee,” Gibbs orders, like Kelly will know what he’s talking about.

Kelly doesn’t argue though, merely taps a few things on the table and soon enough, McGee’s face fills the screen on the wall.

“Hey Boss, Tony. How’s Hawaii?”

“Did you and Abby get through the contents of that toolbox?” Gibbs asks, ignoring the question, all business.

McGee gets the picture right away. “Since we have only virtual copies of the items, Abby can’t run any tests on them, but we’ve been running the images through the association software, trying to find commonalties between the images in addition to analyzing the handwriting. However, I’m not sure how this helps the current case.”

“Does it help with the original case? The murder of Barbara McGarrett?”

McGee types rapidly. “Yes, given what we have, I would say that there’s definite proof of a cover up by the Honolulu Police twenty years ago. It does lend credence to Commander McGarrett’s claims.”

Abby shoves into the picture. “Gibbs! We need those original items, also all the things from Governor Jameson’s office. Can we get them? Or at least get them to a lab that we trust?”

Gibbs stares at the screen and Tony can practically see the wheels going around. This case is way more of a mess than they first realized. If they get the charges dropped against McGarrett, then the rest of case rightfully belongs to the FBI. Gibbs hates letting things go to them, because of his distrustful nature. However, there’s a limit to what he and Tony can get done on their own, without the resources of the rest of the team and Abby’s lab.

“I’ll call Fornell,” Gibbs says finally. “I ordered the full file and the contents of the toolbox delivered here, did you get that done, McGee?”

“Yes, they should be there by military courier.”

“They arrived a few minutes before you did,” Kelly confirms.

“I also spoke to Admiral Chegwidden,” McGee continues. “He’s sending a JAG officer your way with due speed. He’s quite . . . incensed at Commander McGarrett’s treatment.”

Commander White chuckles. “I’ll just bet.”

Gibbs shakes his head, laughing too. “Your ears okay, McGee?”

“Still ringing, Boss.”

McGee signs off and Kelly picks up the envelopes containing the contents of the spark plug box.

“You can’t work this case, Commander McGarrett,” Gibbs says. “And I can’t let you go anywhere.”

“Come on, babe,” Williams says. “I put Pac Man on my computer.” 

“Oh yeah?” McGarrett says. “Not afraid of your record falling?”

Williams snorts. “As if.” 

He shoves McGarrett into an office and shuts the door firmly. His eyes are worried though. Tony imagines that the Navy SEAL can wreak a fair amount of havoc when he’s bored.

The JAG officer shows up after that and goes into the office to interview McGarrett. He comes back out looking like heads are going to roll.

“I’ll be back with a dismissal in an hour,” Captain Andrews says, before storming out of the Five-0 headquarters. 

Tony smiles to himself and whistles, “Someone’s chickens are coming home to roost.”

It’s more like two hours, but Captain Andrews comes back triumphant. “Here, case dismissed. And I slapped them with a harassment suit on top of it, plus a little slander and libel. It won’t go anywhere because they’ll claim sovereign immunity, but they’ll have to put a little effort into it.”

“We do still have to work with them,” McGarrett says. “We’re on the same side.”

Andrews shrugs. “They need to clean house. Maybe this will give them some incentive.” He checks his watch. “The wife is expecting me for some fancy dinner. Call if you need anything else.”

“Thanks,” McGarrett says. “I appreciate it. You have no idea.”

“Not a problem.” The Navy attorney dashes out.

“I’m afraid you still can’t work the case,” Gibbs says.

Williams pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and tosses them to McGarrett. “Go blow off some steam.”

Steve stares at the keys as though they’re something special and Danny smirks at him.

“Don’t wreck it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Danno.”

~~***~~ 

They don’t actually get the case solved before Vance reels them back to D.C. The FBI has things well under control though and have made Hawaii very uncomfortable for Wo Fat. Most of Honolulu P.D. isn’t implicated in the Yakuza connection, but those that are get very nervous when Fornell takes steps to file RICO actions against Wo Fat and all his known associates.

It has been a busy couple of days, and Tony has yet to see his hotel bed, and he’s almost certain that none of the Five-0 team have gone home either. People have been taking catnaps on the couch at the headquarters.

“Since you and Agent Gibbs are leaving tomorrow, I’m throwing a party at my house,” McGarrett says as Tony is packing the last of his gear. “I live at the beach and I’d like you two to come.”

Tony looks at his boss, who shrugs and says, “Sure.”

McGarrett lives on a peaceful cove in a suburb at the edge of Honolulu proper. Tony looks around curiously as Steve leads them through the house to the back where the grill is going and the rest of his team are already relaxing in various states of undress. There’s no sign of the bloodstains from Jack McGarrett’s murder. The house has an air of grief lying thick in it though, the losses from all the years adding up.

“Danny stayed here while I was incarcerated,” McGarrett says. “Otherwise the place would be pretty funky smelling and dusty. He kept things alive.”

Tony suspects that’s not the only thing Williams kept alive, but he doesn’t comment. He wonders if the two of them will ever say the things to each other that are obvious to almost everyone who meets them.

McGarrett and Kelly build a big bonfire and light it as soon as the sun starts to go down.

Unwinding with a beer in his hand, Tony contemplates his boss, who unaccountably produced a pair of board shorts from somewhere. He’s seen Jethro in shorts many times – running, sparring, his rare days off, but Tony can’t remember ever seeing him barefoot.

Jethro catches him looking a few times and Tony ducks his head down, finding something else to draw his attention. Luckily, Danny and Steve are in each other’s space more than usual, which Tony puts down to their relief at having the case mostly over and being able to get back to their normal lives. The rest of the team watches the pair as well with an air of anticipation, as if they think that whatever is simmering between the cop and the SEAL will finally boil over into something spectacular.

Other random people show up, stay for a while and leave, so there’s a constant shifting of dancers down by the fire and people horsing around in the mild waves of the cove. 

Tony catches sight Gibbs and Kono dancing together, moving fluidly as though they’d been doing it for years, the slim lines of her body elegant against the strength of his. Tony swallows against the familiar hurt and looks around for McGarrett and Williams to distract him again, but they are nowhere to be found.

Stepping back into the shadows, Tony keeps to the edge of the firelight, intent on finding the pair. He knows damn well why they fascinate him so much – because their story is a distant echo of his own. Maybe seeing them finally happy together will ease his pain, or maybe it will make things worse, he doesn’t know.

He leaves the fire in the distance as he walks the edge of the water, keeping out of it so his steps won’t splash. He hears a low murmur of voices up head and finally sees them leaning against a palm tree growing sideways out over the water, their features lit by the rising moon.

Tony ducks inland slightly, away from his exposed position on the beach and uses the other trees as cover as he works his way closer. When he’s near enough to hear what they’re saying, Tony pauses, mentally castigating himself for intruding on what appears to be a very intimate moment between two men on the verge of taking the final plunge from friends to lovers. But he can’t look away from them, can’t until he discovers the secret that gives them the courage to cross that boundary. He thinks maybe it might be their age – they are so painfully young, but maybe they have the flexibility of youth. And maybe they have the passion to take what they want instead of letting the rest of society declare it out of their reach.

“What about the baby?” Steve murmurs, his voice so low that Tony can barely hear him.

“Not mine,” Danny responds, his sharp accent making it easier to catch his words.

Steve leans forward, resting his forehead against Danny’s.

“I’m sorry.”

Danny moves, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and tilting his head so that Steve’s forehead rests on his shoulder. The cop comforting his Navy man, even though he’s the one hurt.

“Rachel?” Steve whispers. 

Tony doesn’t know who they are talking about but suspects that the woman is the one with the power to come between them, given the fear in Steve’s voice.

“With Stan. And of the opinion that I chose you over her.”

“Did you?”

“I would never leave you in trouble like that.”

Steve moves his head, and then stops the motion like he’s afraid of overstepping some boundary. He mumbles something into Danny’s neck that Tony can’t hear.

Danny turns his head and runs his hand from Steve’s waist to his neck. “The answer to that is yes. It’s been yes for a very long time now.”

Steve lifts his head, and even in the darkness, Tony can see the intensity of his stare. “Yes?”

“Always,” Danny replies. 

He tugs on Steve’s neck, drawing the taller man towards him. He hesitates a brief instant and then goes up on his toes, joining their mouths with an abrupt move. Steve meets him halfway, lips opening and arms going around his partner. Danny makes a little noise of wanting that barely carries in the still night air, but it goes straight to Tony’s dick, making him twitch.

A hand goes over Tony’s mouth and a strong arm pulls him back against a firm chest.

“What the hell are you doing, DiNozzo?”

Tony can’t reply because of the hand covering his mouth, but he recognizes Gibbs voice and allows himself to be pulled further under the trees, away from the fire and the men embracing fervently by the leaned over palm tree.

Gibbs doesn’t stop until they’re under the broad overhang on the side of the house.

“Care to explain what you were doing?” Gibbs growls at him.

“Envying them,” Tony says, too tired of not getting what he wants to bother hiding it.

Gibbs freezes in place at that answer, like it’s the last thing he expects. Like maybe he had thought Tony is some homophobic asshole who would use their affection against them.

“You saw something in them that you would like?” Gibbs asks, puzzlement clear in his tone.

“Williams. The cop. I crave what he has,” Tony says. Gibbs radiates anger, clearly not getting Tony’s point, so he hastens to explain, “Not McGarrett per se, but the damaged military man who takes one last risk and opens himself to the person who can heal him. The parallels are striking.”

He thinks that maybe Jethro gets what he’s saying at that point because Tony can see by the light of the moon that Gibbs is observing him carefully. But then unexpectedly, Jethro gets closer, getting into Tony’s personal space the way he only ever does when he’s about to deliver a smackdown, verbal or otherwise, and Tony braces for impact. Jethro surprises him, merely resting his hand over Tony’s frantically beating heart.

“You think they’re some sort of mirror of us.”

“Yeah,” Tony says bitterly. “Except that they had the balls to go and grab their happy ending.”

The hand over his heart slides up to his neck, strong fingers kneading away the tension there. Tony thinks that he’s totally lost track of his ability to anticipate what Jethro will do, because there’s no censure in that grip, only comfort. He bites his lip to stop the surge of pure _I want this _that threatens to overwhelm his heart.__

__Jethro moves closer until his chest is pressed against Tony’s and their thighs brush. Tony gasps at the intimate contact, so like his most secret fantasies._ _

__“Is this what you really want?” Jethro murmurs against Tony’s ear, his breath stirring Tony’s hair._ _

__Tony remembers Danny answering some unheard question from Steve and although he doesn’t know if it had been the same question, he echoes the answer. “Yes. Always.”_ _

__Jethro kisses him then, lips dry and firm. The kiss is far gentler than Tony has ever imagined it would be, coaxing him, rather than demanding. Tony opens for it, letting Jethro in gladly. He feels dizzy and drunk, although not from any alcohol._ _

__They pull apart and Jethro drifts tiny kisses along Tony’s jaw. “You okay, Tony?”_ _

__“Yeah. I am. Never better.”_ _

__“You’re shaking.”_ _

__Tony realizes that it’s the truth even as Jethro pulls him closer, wrapping him securely in his embrace._ _

__“Relief,” Tony mumbles, pressing small frantic kisses along Jethro’s neck, absurdly pleased when the man makes some incoherent noise of pleasure. He can’t stop the tremors rippling through his muscles and suspects that the heady combination of feelings surging through him is what is causing the quivering. The only cure is Jethro taking him to bed, but Tony is willing to table that idea until his partner is ready._ _

__“I didn’t mean to make you wait so long,” Jethro says._ _

__“That sounded perilously close to an apology, Boss,” Tony teases, feeling like he’s regained his footing a little bit._ _

__Jethro huffs a little laugh. “Never.”_ _

__He leans against Tony, their bodies pressing together and aligning perfectly. Tony revels in the feeling of Jethro against him from shoulders to toes, thinking that the only way to make it better would be if they were both naked. Jethro turns his attentions to Tony’s neck, taking little nips along Tony’s most sensitive places and Tony thinks that of course Jethro will exploit any advantage to the ruthless limit. He smiles in anticipation._ _

__“You know what, Jethro?”_ _

__“Mmm?”_ _

__“Maybe Hawaii isn’t so bad after all.”_ _


End file.
